Nightmares & Daydreams
by yammdere
Summary: The nightmares would stop eventually, he said. Athena wondered when. [Now with bonus chapter: Daydreams]
1. Nightmares

**Title:** Nightmares (1/2)  
 **Author:** Amm  
 **Fandom:** Ace Attorney  
 **Characters:** Athena Cykes, Simon Blackquill  
 **Word Count:** 2,585  
 **Summary:** The nightmares would stop eventually, he said. Athena wondered when.

* * *

Thunder and wind shook the dilapidated courtroom. Lights flickered, and rain assaulted her ears. Athena couldn't actually remember if it'd been raining, the day of that fateful trial, but it didn't matter. The longer she stood there, shaking, the less she remembered, and the more fear welled up in her. She felt like she was drowning.

She was the little girl, hiding behind her headphones again. She stood behind the defense bench, terrified of the courtroom. She didn't know how things had turned out this way, but she was alone. Apollo, and the boss . . . ? She didn't know where they were, but she wouldn't want them to see her like this anyway.

She was about to lose everything she worked for.

Those long nights studying, shunning her friends, blazing through law school . . . Her memories of Europe shattered like glass, more fragile than she could have imagined.

Her eyes lingered on Simon, standing with pride on the witness stand. There was a man who was not afraid, ready to accept his fate—just as it was so, seven years ago. Further across from her stood Miles Edgeworth, who retained his calm demeanor despite the circumstances. It didn't make sense. Athena balled her shaking hands into fists, silently pleading for his help.

"No," she said. She tried desperately to maintain the composure in her voice. Her lips twitched and an uneven smile appeared on her face—a natural reaction she couldn't control. Widget's blackened color betrayed how she really felt. "Mr. Edgeworth . . . Simon, please say something."

Their faces were unreadable, which unnerved her even further. She couldn't hear anything from their beating hearts, and the Judge shook his head when neither of them protested.

"I'm afraid I have no choice. Ms. Cykes, you are innocent," he said. It should have been a reassurance, but as it stood, there was nothing worse that could've been said to her. "Simon Blackquill, I find _you_ guilty in the murder of Metis Cykes."

The last thing she remembered was the bang of a gavel, and she screamed.

She screamed with all her might as men in blue appeared out of nowhere on the witness stand. What about Aura Blackquill? What about the hostages?

"I did it," she insisted. "You're making such a huge mistake. Please . . . I did it . . ."

Athena crumpled into a ball on the floor. Surely, if she repeated the words long enough, they would believe her. Maybe she would even believe herself.

When she looked up again, however, she was no longer in the courtroom. It was dark. She could feel grass beneath her knees, suggesting the outdoors, and yet the atmosphere was oppressive like a dungeon. She could see Simon. With the guards behind him, he stood on what looked to be a raised platform, in front of a noose made especially for him. He spared her a glance as he stepped forward, and yet she could hear no fear, no regret as she should have from someone who was about to be hanged; wrongfully, at that.

She couldn't watch. He gave her a smile, which she saw only because she couldn't close her eyes quickly enough.

"Athena, I'm sorry," he said. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet she could hear him clearly as if he was right next to her. As if she could throw her arms around him, protect him.

Then she could hear the snapping of the platform beneath his feet, and she knew that smile would haunt her forever.

For a fleeting moment, she wished they would kill her, too.

 **o o o**

Simon had long accepted that this day would come. The only thing that made it more difficult was seeing Athena, who could barely stand to look at him. In truth, he wasn't expecting her to be there, though he wasn't surprised either. He glanced at the guards surrounding him, trying to hide the uneasiness that eclipsed over his body.

"She shouldn't be here," he said softly, as a warning.

The guard nearest to him winced. "She insisted—"

"Get her out of here."

"But the last guard who tried, she . . . She . . ."

He didn't have to say more. Simon could already imagine the girl flipping over a guard twice her size, likely sending him to the hospital, if he was unlucky in his landing. He wasn't sure, but soon it wouldn't matter. Nothing would.

"Then we should get on with it," he said darkly; yet his lips curled as he continued in his quip: "before she comes to her senses and takes on all of you."

Murmurs swept through his entourage as he stepped towards the middle of the platform. It sounded as if they believed him, believed that this broken little girl could shake up their entire world. The hesitation among them remained, but eventually, the roughness of rope found its way around his neck. He didn't get to see the lucky bastard who was blessed with the deed. Instinctively, he lifted his hands, still bound by chains, to feel it; but someone stopped him, and his arms went limp once more.

"Is there anything you'd like to say?" a voice asked.

Simon didn't listen. For the first time that night, Athena looked up at him, and he could see her eyes. He frowned. They were the eyes of a little girl, helpless and terrified.

"Athena," he said. His voice was as gentler than it had ever been. "I'm sorry."

What followed was a long moment during which he waited for death to take him. The guards looked to each other, wondering whether that sufficed as his answer, when finally, they decided that it did. The platform gave way beneath his feet, and Simon could feel a burning, tightening sensation around his throat. The suddenness of it made his eyes widen, his stomach reeling from the drop.

He gasped the last breath of air he was to ever take before slumping into a pile of bones on the hard floor, limp and unmoving.

He was awake.

 **o o o**

Athena jumped at the noise.

It wasn't the first time she'd had the dream, or even the second or third, but it still made her quiver every time. She was still in a sweat, cheeks wet with tears when her eyes widened. She turned her head, realizing the commotion came from the room she gave Simon when he moved in, which . . . made sense, obviously. They were the only two in the house aside from maybe Taka, who preferred to stay with his master. Any other room and she would have _really_ had something to be concerned about.

Still, it was enough of a distraction. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her pajamas, sniffling as she closed the distance on his door. She pressed her ear against it so she could hear inside.

". . . Simon?"

There was no answer, but she could hear him fumbling to collect himself. It was a few moments later when he opened the door, and Athena had to restrain from choking him in a tight hug. She was _so relieved_ , and she couldn't hide it.

"Athena," he said. He coughed, but his voice was otherwise even. "Did I wake you?"

She giggled. She could hear all the nuances in his voice again. She could hear that he was embarrassed. "No," she answered. He must have noticed that she was crying, because it was then his gentle fingers swept aside her bangs, trailing just beneath her eyes where the tears collected. Nevertheless, she beat him to the question they were both thinking. "Are you okay?"

Rather than respond, he maintained his composure and opened his door wider as an invitation. Athena took it curiously, waddling her way inside. The blanket, which she'd grabbed from the living room couch without thinking, trailed behind her; but not for long. She draped it over her shoulders once more as she made herself comfortable on his bed.

He joined her quietly. She looked at him, seeing the same marks on his cheek as she'd seen in court, many times before; yet it was harder to take them in now, knowing how he got them. She opened her mouth to say something, but it was he who beat her this time.

"The nightmares haven't stopped?"

She hesitated. She thought about lying, but it didn't feel right, so she shook her head. Still, there was a smile that lit her face. "No. But I'm fine." He continued to eye her skeptically, and she responded by elbowing him. She laughed at the grunt that escaped his lips. "Really! I am. I have this cool, trusty samurai with me, after all."

 _And he's alive. And he will be, for as long as I can help it._

Simon finally smirked at the compliments. He was no psychologist, and while he was great at manipulating people when he had to, he didn't really know how to handle Athena when she was like this. Shaken, yet cheery in an attempt to hide it. Most nights, he worried about overstaying his welcome, but tonight, he was glad he could be here for his young protege.

Even as they stood on opposite sides of the court, he still saw her as someone under his wing, someone to be cared for, for Metis's sake.

Now, she was taking care of him, too. They came to trust each other. He didn't even need to ask before she spoke up again.

"It was the trial again," she said solemnly. She could hear the curiosity with every beat of his heart, and figured she'd save him the trouble. In a way, he admired her for being able to smile, even as she recalled the experience. "You'd think dream me would get the hint already."

It was over. They _won._ She didn't need to elaborate further, though. Simon knew.

"Dream you and dream me have a lot to learn."

Hmm. At first Athena was quiet as she stared at him, wondering what that might mean. She was only a little surprised when it sort of hit her, and then her gaze dropped to her feet, which swung back and forth. "So yours haven't stopped either."

Before the guilt could weigh her down too much, Simon placed an awkward hand on her shoulder. There was no use in telling her not to worry, that it was not her fault. He didn't particularly want to talk about it. He wasn't a man blessed with words when it came to matters of the heart, but perhaps this was enough. It had been some years since he'd initiated physical contact with someone that didn't end in violence. Her whisper of a voice as she leaned in against his touch told him he'd done the right thing.

"Hey, Simon?"

His reply was rough by comparison. Even though his tone was cold, she could sense the warmth beneath it all. "What is it?"

She hesitated. "Could I . . . maybe sleep here for the rest of the night?"

Simon opened his mouth. He closed it again, clearly caught off guard. Athena could tell, and she met his eyes with her own, inviting and warm. "Just for . . . a few hours!" She caught a glimpse of the clock, which read 4:22AM. It didn't even bother her that it was such a ridiculous hour. "I—well, for some reason, I feel safer here."

Maybe she hated the idea of waking up to find him gone. Maybe she wanted to be able to say goodbye, if he left before she did. Whatever the reason, despite his apprehension at sharing the same bed, his expression softened and he didn't object.

"If that's how you feel." With the 'yes' implied, Athena rolled past him with her blanket, making herself comfortable against the wall. There was plenty of room for him, but he had another idea, and with his feet firmly on the ground, he stood up. "I could sleep on the floor." _Or the couch,_ he mused, but Athena was already pouting.

"No, stay," she told him, reaching a hand out from under her cocoon. But she could hear his uneasiness and then felt a little selfish for suggesting it. "I mean, you don't have to do that."

She hoped he would change his mind. She waited as Simon considered the choices laid before him, but Athena was never a patient person. After a while, she decided she would make things easy for him and smiled as she unwrapped herself from the blanket. "Never mind," she said airily. There was a sheepish laugh; what was she thinking? "I'll go back to my room. Sorry."

He stopped her as she got to the edge, which surprised her. His voice was demanding, and she felt pressure against her shoulder as he pushed her back encouragingly. "It's late. Go to sleep," he said. "I'll stay."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes."

. . . She watched for his reaction, listening to him very closely as she snuggled back into her original position. Sleepiness had finally found her and she was too tired to argue with him one way or another, so she accepted his answer for what it was. She made herself comfortable again and he settled in after her. He sighed, and she could see his chest rise and fall just before she closed her eyes.

He did the same. In fact, he nearly dozed off completely, before she broke the peace again.

"Simon?"

He stirred, humming in response. It was more a grunt of acknowledgment than genuine interest, but Athena took it. He would've hated it, anyway, if she'd backed out on him after that. "Do you think my mom would be proud of me?"

Simon's eyes half-opened. His throat felt dry, and he had to swallow before he could respond. "You already know the answer to that," he insisted. There was finality in his tone that wouldn't let her deny it.

"I know . . . but I want to hear it from you. Please."

A spot on his head suddenly itched. He scratched at it idly, and finally decided it would be easier to answer her like this, when he couldn't see her. He obliged her in a low tone: "She was always proud of you. I doubt that will ever change, even in her death." He paused, shifting his position, as if still trying to find comfort. She didn't respond; yet he knew she wasn't asleep, so he added: "You should be proud of yourself."

She hummed, seeming content with his answer. Even without looking, Simon could tell she was smiling. "Thank you."

He could feel her warmth against his back. She must have moved closer. Just when he thought she might have dozed off, she spoke up again, words slurred and groggy. "I can take you to see her. When you're ready . . . you know. It's long overdue, don't you think . . ."

His eyes were wide again. There were few things he wanted more than to pay his respects to his mentor, though he never thought he'd get the chance. It occurred to him that it was very much possible now, and he wondered why never dreamed of such a thing instead. Seeing Metis, rather than a dull execution he narrowly avoided.

Sometimes, his brain made little sense, even to him. Still, it gave him something to look forward to. He wondered if Athena would remember her offer in the morning.

"Good night, Athena," he said.

She mumbled something like 'good night,' and he heard her no more. There was only light snoring between the two of them until the next morning.

* * *

 **A/N:** _I admit it. I got bit by the Cykesquill bug, hard. I ship other things, I swear._

 _Anyway, I wasn't sure how this was going to turn out, if it was going to be as cute as I wanted it or just overly dramatic. Maybe it was a bit of both but I hope I achieved the former! Look forward to the bonus chapter tomorrow. c:_


	2. Daydreams (Bonus)

**Title:** Daydreams (Nightmares  & Daydreams, 2/2)  
 **Author:** Amm  
 **Fandom:** Ace Attorney  
 **Characters:** Miles Edgeworth, Ema Skye, Dick Gumshoe  
 **Word Count:** 1,164  
 **Summary:** Drunk texting without the alcohol.

* * *

 _"The nightmares will stop eventually, too," Miles once told her, in idle conversation. His voice was deep, foreboding, but laced with hope._

 _Being a wallflower didn't suit her, but the Chief Prosecutor was enough wallflower for the both of them, Athena decided. Imagine her surprise at his words! She stared at him with innocent eyes. Even without special hearing or a fancy bracelet, he could sure read a lot about a person._

 _"How did you know I was having nightmares?"_

 _In truth, he had no explanation. He just knew, and no logic he knew of could back it up, but clearly it was true._

 _He simply gave an evasive smirk, keeping the walls around him high as he squeezed her shoulder with his hand. He distanced himself from the actual wall on which they leaned, and before she knew what was happening, he disappeared into the crowd._

 **o o o**

From the twelfth floor of the Prosecutor's building, Miles Edgeworth stared down from the comfort of his office at the concrete below. He watched as his protege, Simon Blackquill, disappeared along the sidewalk through the entrance to the ground floor beneath him. Meanwhile, Ms. Cykes waved him goodbye cheerily as she turned her separate way.

He realized he must be catching a glimpse of their routine of sorts. Miles even thought that maybe Athena had met his eyes, if only for a moment, but dismissed it as his imagination. It was a sign that he needed his morning tea, if anything, and he turned away from the window, only to be faced with the cell phone sitting abandoned at his table.

His own cell phone, of course, which admittedly didn't get much use outside emergencies—yet today, it surprised him. He grabbed it, flipping it open in the palm of his hand.

Absentmindedly, as he recalled that night he spoke with Athena Cykes, he also recalled that he'd given her his number. She hadn't made any use of it until today, which was a good thing, he thought; but he didn't know what to think when he heard the barrage of texts so early in the morning. Opening them yielded something far less dramatic than he'd feared, thankfully. He read them again.

[7:42AM] _Mr Edgeworth, wouldn't you know it? I remembered I had your number this morning. this is terrible news for you, i'm sure, but I promise! I won't be a bother :)_  
[7:44AM] _I only wanted to say I appreciate how considerate you were to offer it to me. I would feel rude if I didn't use it at least once._

[7:55AM] _The nightmares came back last night for both simon and I. It's been a while, so it surprised me, but we're ok. I was lucky he was there, though neither of us slept very much. It was past 4am. Yikes._

[8:01AM] _I hope you have someone like him. I figure if you knew I was having nightmares, you must have had them too. Just know that the offer goes both ways, even though I KNOW you won't take it ;P_  
[8:01AM] _At least save my number. You never know!_

[8:07AM] _Wow . . . I guess it's too early to be this sappy, haha. Is this what drunk-texting feels like?_  
[8:08AM] _. . . dont take that too seriously_  
[8:11AM] _Anyway, i'll leave you alone now. See u around . . . go easy on simon today ;( please_  
[8:11AM] _Thnx. (nd no i'm totally not goin back to sleep_

Awkward as it was, his lips curled, tightening into a smile. He didn't know how to feel. No one had texted him for anything other than work, ever, and he found himself at a loss for words. It was well past nine, almost ten AM now and he still hadn't responded even once. Judging by her demeanor when she left, Athena didn't hold it against him.

His phone snapped shut against his hand, and that's when he jumped at the cough he heard from beyond his desk. Two detectives stood in wait just inside his door: Skye and Gumshoe.

"A-Ack! Detectives—" He dropped his phone, looking distressed. He scrambled to regain his composure, and then remembered he'd been waiting for them to begin with. He cleared his throat, beckoning them closer as he pushed up his glasses. "Come in."

Both Ema and Gumshoe approached. They stared at each other, then to him, rather expectantly.

"Who was that, sir?" Gumshoe was brave (or stupid, one could never tell) enough to ask. He stared at the cell phone, once again abandoned on the desk.

"No one, detective," Edgeworth replied with finality. "I have an assignment for you both." The two subordinates looked at each other again, but when neither dared speak up again, he continued. "You are to accompany Prosecutor Blackquill on his investigation today."

"Prosecutor Blackquill?" Ema's unusually bright voice chirped. "No fop today?" She spoke too soon, and immediately covered her mouth. That was unprofessional of her, though Edgeworth luckily didn't seem to take note of it.

"No," he replied, rather curtly. "The case I've assigned Prosecutor Blackquill has gained a lot of attention from the media, and I need to make sure they stay at bay and that no stone is left unturned. Can I count on you two?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Of course, sir!"

Predictable responses, but they were ones he needed to hear, so Edgeworth nodded. "Very well. Report to me with any information you find."

That was all it took to send them on their way. They saluted him (he told them to stop that, alas, old habits died hard) and shuffled out of the room. Alone, he found himself taking hold of his phone again, flipping it open. Then closed. Then—

Then he threw it in frustration, and it landed on his office couch.

Athena was right. It really was (still) too early for this.

 **o o o**

The door shut behind them as they left. Both were still stunned. Gumshoe had worked with the man for years, and he could count on his fingers how many times Miles Edgeworth had made the expression they saw.

"Who do you think he was talkin' to?" he asked Ema, his young charge.

"Wouldn't you know better than me?" she retorted. She looked smug. "Besides, I think it was less talking and more texting."

"Mr. Edgeworth doesn't text," Gumshoe insisted stubbornly.

"Maybe that's what he wants you to think."

. . . He couldn't argue with that. So Ema took his silence as her victory and continued on, suddenly picking up her pace. The more she could throw herself in her work, the less this could eat at her. "Come on! We don't want him to leave without us."

"Would Mr. Blackquill really do that?!" Gumshoe exclaimed. He nearly tripped over himself to keep by her side. Ema scoffed.

"Have you _met_ the guy?"

Touche. Gumshoe whimpered and said no more on the subject. They reached the twisted samurai's office, and everything was forgotten about Mr. Edgeworth's mystery texting partner.

One day, maybe they'd find out who it was.

* * *

 **A/N:** _This chapter was kind of a bonus and didn't have much to do with Athena and Blackquill, but I hope you enjoyed how silly it was nonetheless. Awkward Edgeworth is the best Edgeworth._

 _I love Cykesquill, but I love exploring interactions between Edgeworth and Athena, too. I love the idea of them bonding over their tragic pasts . . . albeit in really awkward, roundabout ways._

 _Thank you for reading! That's all for now, folks._


End file.
